Taming the Mockingbird
by Mitsuki.Butterfly
Summary: AU Scout, or Jean Louise as Aunt Alexandra insists she is called, is 15 years old. Seven years have passed since Tom Robinson's trial and the complications that came with it. What if Bob Ewell never attacked the children? How would their lives progress?
1. INTROOOOOOOOOOOOO

**Author's Note!: I finally put my nose to the grindstone (hehe, dat visual) and finished the foist chapter! I'm hoping to be able to update at least once a week, but CST testing is coming near, so I may have to put this story on a 1-2 week hiatus. For now, however, expect updates aplenty! But, a little background info is needed to fully understand this strange little alternate universe Maycomb I came up with during grueling English periods. This takes place 7 years AFTER the Tom Robinson trial, **_**BUUUUUT! The death of Bob Ewell and the children meeting Boo Radley hasn't happened yet. After the trial, the Ewells kind of just go back into obscurity. **_**Sorry if I didn't explain it well enough :( Review/comment/message me with your questions if you have any! And please enjoy!**

**WARNINGS (oh nooooooes):**

**Mature language, inconsistent updates, mild sexual themes, mutilation of a great piece of classic literature, racism, child abuse, and good old-fashioned teen angst!**


	2. Chapter 1: It was summer again

**/Author's Note!: I finally put my nose to the grindstone after seeing all the favorites and story alerts! Thanks to everyone who decided to give this fic a chance ^_^ Sorry for the long wait, I've just been uneasy about the idea of plunging headfirst into this complex fic, and there's been school sooo… but it's summer naooooo! So expect updates aplenty. Please read the intro/ author's note chapter-thingy first! If you have any questions, review/message me or whatever. Enjooooooooyyyyyy**

Maycomb was still a tired old town with tired old people ambling about with no particular place to go or thing to do. It had been seven years since the

excitement of the Tom Robinson trial and its aftermath, and Maycomb had gone back to its quiet nature. No one had heard from the Ewell's since Bob's

tryst with Atticus, and Aunt Alexandra accounted it to the fact that a Ewell never finished what they started. I accounted it to the fact that he was just an

old red rooster, puffing out his feathers and strutting about like he's hot stuff. And just like an old red rooster, he ran away when the prospect of a hungry

cat arose. However, Atticus still thought that Bob Ewell wasn't done with the Finches, and that he'd come by any day to redeem himself for the

"humiliation" Atticus had caused him in court. Therefore, Atticus made sure I always had an escort to and from school and around town. And Dill, the

eternal gentleman he was, was quite eager to fill that position ever since his unhealthy obsession with the luring of Boo Radey died with age. Dill's

aspirations at age 15 were more geared courting the local girls and fulfilling his duties as student body presiden, leaving him no time to think about the

old hermit. It was almost as if Boo Radley's ominous presence had not left, but became a familiar memory, something to laugh at and say, "Oh look how

silly we were, thinking he actually existed."

It was summer again, and Dill and Jem were ritualistically punting pigskin back and forth on the lawn. I was reclining on Miss Maudie's porch, as I had been

doing nearly every afternoon this week. It was silent, except for the unintelligible tune Miss Maudie was humming and the low creaking of our rocking

chairs. My hands were slick with sweat, and I had to continuously pause my needlework to wipe my hands on the dingy linen apron Calpurnia had lent me.

If Aunt Alexandra was there, she would have scolded me, telling me to use talcum powder, don't soil your apron. And sit up straight, you look like a

cripple. And, Jean Louise, your lines on that embroidery are crooked! Yes, it was indeed summer again. The scorch of the sun and the sweltering Southern

air were tell-tale signs, and yet; it had not felt like summer for quite a few years since Aunt Alexandra finally took the imitative and made it her ultimate

goal to make me a proper lady. Romping around in the dust and dirt were things only little boys did, and I wasn't a little boy now was I? If I had any doubt

in my mind as to my gender, she had thoroughly scrubbed and powdered the idea out of my head. And underneath my fingernails. During that single

bathing session, I had traveled to hell and back. My cuticles ache at the thought.

"Scout, honey, do you want some more lemonade? I've got a whole 'nother pitcher inside." A familiar voice arose me from my embroidery-induced

daydream. I looked up to see a familiar set of crinkled eyes smiling warmly at me. I chuckled at the nostalgia of those eyes and replied with feigned

concern, "Don't let Aunt Alexandra hear you call me Scout, she'll claw your eyes out. It's only 'Jean Louise' or 'Miss Louise' from now on." "It'll be our little

secret," Miss Maudie drawled, "One of many." I laid my sorry excuse for embroidery in my lap and sighed, "Yes, one of many and many more to come."

After a few moments of contemplative silence I rose out of my chair. The old wood made a faint scraping noise on the porch. "Don't worry yourself, I'll get

the lemonade." Before I went into the house, I glanced across the yard where Jem and Dill were playing. I'd seen this scene countless times before, it

seemed, though never like this. Every year, I would look out to see two children, still pudgy with youth, running about with boundless energy, their pre-

pubescent laughter high and keening. But those cherubs covered in dirt had grown long and lanky. Every time a pass was made, muscles in their arms

would ripple. Their hair grew shaggy and their voices rumbled. I felt a sudden melancholy pain. Since when had they become men? It felt as if just last

month, we were in a creek somewhere, making vows to never ever ever grow up. _I'm sorry_ I mouthed in their direction with a sad smile. Years became

days and minutes became seconds as I got older; and the days of childhood had slipped away faster than I could catch it. Yes, it really was summer again.

_**Arrrrrghhhh sorry for the short chapter :o Writing the first one is always the hardest, so bear with me! You'll be reading the juicy parts before you know it hehehehe**_


	3. Chapter 2: Growing pains

_**Author's Note: Oh mah lord, so many alerts/ favorites! Thank you all sooooo much! Please continue to read and review; reviews are my heroin…well maybe not heroin, but you get the idea. :) **__**By the way, how do you go about getting a Beta Reader (I think it's called…)? Sorry if it's an obvious question, I'm a noob. DX**_

"How've you been treating yourself lately, Mr. Charles Baker Harris? Been minding your auntie?" Atticus cut a portion of roast and

pointed his fork at Dill inquisitively. "Of course Atticus," he replied with a mouthful of potatoes and gravy, so it actually sounded

more like "Awww curth, Adithuss." Atticus gave a satisfactory hum and resumed devouring his meal with vigor. It was silent for a

few moments before Aunt Alexandra cleared her throat loudly. She gestured at the napkin around my collar. She cleared her

throat louder and jerked her head towards the napkin on her lap. Why must the proper ladies of society be so cryptic? I kept

shoveling the food into my mouth without a second glance at her. Atticus grabbed a biscuit off the platter in the middle of the

table. "What about school?" he asked, gingerly buttering the biscuit in his hand. "Great, Atticus, I have high marks in all my

subjects." Dill replied with apparent confidence. I could swear I saw Jem smirk at him out of the corner of my eye. "Well that's just

_superb_, Dill-dearest," I sneered with false jealousy. He just scoffed. Dill and I had been fighting for the title of being "top-of-the-

class" since grammar school. As we aged, it became a deadly game of bragging rights rather than a friendly competition. And, after

we received the results of our final exams in the mail, Dill made it very clear he had won by bringing it up whenever possible. If I

didn't stop him now, he'd never stop going on about his infinite knowledge of reading, writing and arithmetic. Then he would

criticize my lack of multiplication skills. It wasn't my fault that Miss Horne made times tables as boring as watching grass grow. But

I digress.

Calpurnia emerged from the kitchen to clear the table of dirtied plates. When she returned, she set down fat slices of pig-picking

cake. Cal always made the best deserts, and they tasted even better in the midst of the summer heat. Our eating pace had

slowed considerably, and Aunt Alexandra brought out the chamomile tea, which usually marked the end of the meal. This was

about the time where the conversation got more lively and intelligible. Unless Aunt Alexandra was cross. In that situation, we

youngsters would disperse to our respective rooms to quietly wait until she and Atticus stopped bickering. I often wondered if Jem

and I looked (and sounded) like that to everyone around us: like the North against the South in the Civil War. Just then, the devil

herself decided to contribute to the relatively non-existent conversation. "So, Mr. Harris, is there a beauty at school that's caught

your eye?" Aunt Alexandra inquired with a mischievous glint in her cold eyes. Jem suddenly choked on whatever ungodly amount

of cake was in his mouth. Dill's face turned a shade of red that resembled the beets Miss Maudie grew in her yard. "Awww, let's

not embarrass the boy," Atticus chuckled and winked at Dill, only serving to make him that beet-shade of red all the way down his

neck. "I-it's alright Atticus," Dill stammered quietly, apparently searching for the meaning of life in the floorboards. "There

actually…_is_ someone..." Aunt Alexandra gave him a knowing smile. Looked more like a grimace to me. "Oh? Are the feelings

mutual?" My eyes must have been failing me after so many hours of needlework, but it seemed as if the corners of Jem's mouth

were slowly tugging upwards. Dill raised his head and smirked sadly at her. "I think so, but for some reason, I'm not so sure it'll

work out." A loud clattering noise startled us, and, strangely, Jem was out of his chair. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly

and we continued to stair concernedly at him. "I…ah…excuse me, I don't feel good." And with that, he bolted out of the dining

room, presumably to his room. After a few uncomfortably tense minutes, Dill announced that he would go and check up on Jem.

"Growin' pains…" Cal muttered as she sopped up the milk Jem spilled in his urgency. Usually I would trust her on any other

occasion, but the two boys _had_ been acting rather differently as of late: sneaking around and locking themselves up in Jem's room.

I had previously thought it was just a case of boys being boys, but the incident at supper had me thinking otherwise. "…Oh, Jean

Louise! I just remembered that nice man from the Maycomb Tribune called today, and he said you got the papergirl job! Isn't that

just lovely?" Aunt Alexandra rambled in a sorry attempt to dismiss the pregnant silence in the room the evening's previous events

had caused. "Mmmhmm yeah, that's great…" It wasn't that I didn't care, in fact, if it was any other suppertime, I would have been

positively ecstatic! I'd been waiting impatiently for Mr. Underwood to get back to me about the job for at least a month. But the

welfare of my brother and my best friend were more important. I decided I would talk to the boys later that night after the adults

were asleep. That way, there was no overreacting from Aunt Alexandra or disappointed frowns from Atticus, if the situation called

for such reactions. I silently prayed it wouldn't.

_**Author's Note: AHHHH REALLY LONG CHAPTER! Sorry about that ^^; Next chapter's gonna be different, just a heads up! **__**This chapter was centered around a story idea and reader gave to me (and made possible by the down-to-earth sounds of Kate Nash), so if you have an idea that you would like incorporated into this fic (given that it somehow fits into my basic plot I have already planned), tell me and I'll try my best to include it. Please review, lovelies~!**_


	4. Chapter 2 EXTRA: Lets play pretend

_**Author's Note: Good morning errybody! Or evening. Whatever floats your boat. I just finished and published the newest chapter, and I needed to write this out before I went to bed and forgot it in the midst of my disturbing dreams. This chapter is different in the sense that it is not from Scout's point of view, but sort of a 3**__**rd**__**-person one. This chapter can be skipped if you don't want to be confused by the random PV change, but I suggest you don't. It's just some character development/ side plot, and it should give some logic to the mayhem from the last chappie. I highly recommend you listen to "Sunrise" by Doug Hammer while you read. Enjoy, and sorry for the massive AN ^^;**_

**FLASHBACK**

The two boys sat on the porch steps, sweating like stuck pigs and watching multicolored explosions paint the sky's navy

canvas. Jem was fifteen at the time, and Dill, a very precocious twelve-year-old. He'd chosen that night to reveal his rather

unorthodox feelings towards the Finch boy he'd been harboring since their childhood together. Dill was becoming

increasingly exasperated at Jem's naivety; he thought that after about a year of shameless flirting Jem would finally

understand. Clearly not, because the older boy just took Dill's advances as brotherly love. So Dill decided that night he would

risk it all and tell Jem everything. How Jem's face was there when Dill closed his eyes. How he plagued his every dream.

How his simple touch made Dill feel weightless. "Jem, I love you Jem," he said matter-of-factly whilst leaning his head on

Jem's bare shoulder. "Hm? Oh, yeah y'know I love you too." Jem grunted, never taking his eyes off the fireworks. Dill sighed

heavily. He was going to have to be more obvious, so he leaned in, and pressed his lips to the skin just below Jem's ear. Dill

could feel his love tense up and his pulse quicken significantly. "Ahaha, Dill? Why'd you k-k-kiss me? Hahaha, boys don't kiss

boys…" he tittered nervously, his voice noticeably shaking. The fireworks resumed, but the two heard and saw nothing but

each other. Dill reached up and buried his fingers in Jem's shaggy locks. "I just told you I loved you." All the blood rushed to

Jem's tanned cheeks and his lip quivered. "Like…like brothers, right?" Dill shook his head. "Like…l-like…**that**?" Jem felt Dill's

hands leave his hair and find his hands. "Yeah," Dill crooned. The spaces in between his fingers were where Dill's fit

perfectly. "Like** that**,"

Jem lay on his stomach under his bed, tracing the lines in the floorboards in the dim light. He wiped away stray tears of frustration

with the back of his bronzed forearm. Jem had, subconsciously knew what Dill said earlier was true, but it made his chest ache

hollowly nonetheless. Deep down, Jem just wanted to pretend no one else existed and that what they were doing was all that

would ever matter. Didn't Dill understand just how much he loved him? And how confusing it was when he first realized it? Of

course he did, and that's why it just couldn't work out. The world they lived in was intolerant of relationships of their caliber, and if

anyone found out about the reason behind Jem and Dill's secret meetings, they might as well adopt Boo Radley's lifestyle. Just

then, the door creaked open. Jem froze when he saw two feet walk past the bed through the veil of chocolate bangs that fell in

front of his eyes. "…Jem? Jem please come out," a delicate voice called out shakily. The owner of the voice dropped to his hands

and knees before the bed. Dill's alabaster face was mere inches away from Jem's tear-stained one. "How'd you know I was under

here?" Dill gave him a slight grin. "This is where we would hide when we were kids. How could I forget?" With swift, nimble

motions, the smaller boy was under the bed as well. Jem turned his head and, with a hitched breath, found that their noses

touched. "This was where I told you I loved you for the first time." Jem turned away quickly, his face burning hotly. "We were just

kids. We didn't mean it _that_ way. Not until later anyways…" "Doesn't matter," Dill murmured while fingering a group of loose curls

on the back of Jem's head. Once he felt his face was a relatively normal color, Jem turned to look at his friend. Dill's eyes were that

particular shade of cerulean that you could get lost in. They were two round windows, gazing out into the Caribbean Sea. Two

wispy blonde eyebrows knitted themselves together. "What made you storm out?" His hands found Jem's russet curls. "Does this

bother you?" Dill whispered. Jem groaned at the electric contact. Dill's hands were the only hands that elicited such a strong

reaction from Jem's body. "No, but…Dill. We can't keep doing this. Someone's gonna find out about us, and then everyone'll—"The

fingers in Jem's hair tightened and made him wince. "No one is gonna find out," Dill interrupted forcefully. "And if they do…and if

they do…we'll…we'll…" his rather feminine voice trailed off. His grip loosened and he dropped his hands to the floor. "We'll what

Dill? We'll try to explain why we're two boys loving each other how two boys shouldn't? We'll laugh it off when our families disown

us? We'll what?" Jem harshly asked. "We'll run away. It's not like there's never been relationships between men in the history of

the world." Jem rolled to his side and grabbed ahold of Dill's face. It didn't help Jem's argument much when Dill's smooth, pale

cheeks seemed to glow in the low light. _Shoot, he's an angel_ Jem thought to himself. "…But what comes of those men? God hates

faggots and so does everyone else!" Jem retorted, snapping out of his reverie. Dill rolled his eyes in the way that reminded Jem so

much of a girl. "You actually believe the shit they shove down your throat at church? If we're happy, what does it matter?" Jem

knew that Dill was agnostic, and he doubted the existence of a God himself, but his firm Christian upbringing refused to let him not

feel guilty about his and Dill's rendezvous. "And, please, don't use that f-word. It hurts…" Dill sounded close to tears. Though it

was true Dill never confided about his sexuality to his parents, his father strongly disliked Dill's aversion to hunting, competitive

sports, and pornographic magazines (typical "man" activities according to him) to the point where insults and acts of violence

became routine at the Harris household. Jem mentally kicked himself in the pants for that misstep. "I'm sorry, but Dill, we don't live

in our own world." He said gently. Dill pouted and breathed softly through his parted mouth. "Can we pretend? For now?" The

temptation became too great, and Jem leaned in and captured Dill's plush pink lips in his own. Dill melted into the kiss with a

content hum, and Jem tasted the warm salt of tears. He pulled away momentarily; even the shortest of Dill's kisses left him

breathless. "Of course I'll pretend with you, but one day, we will have to figure something out." Dill ran his hands along Jem's

spine, the contact making Jem's flesh tingle. "Someday, we will. But not anytime soon. For now, just love me," Dill replied urgently.

"Please?" Jem couldn't help but oblige his needy Charles Baker Harris and their mouths met again in a clash of tongues and lips.

The two boys once again found their true happiness in a world of make- believe as they did when they were children: a world

where everyone loved each other and nothing hurt.

_**Author's Note: Blahhh so angsty! Do you like this pairing? I like it a bit too much I've realized, I might have to make a side-story for the two…AT AN UNSPECIFIED DATE :D For some reason, this chapter took me a really long time! I started around 8, and now it's three in the morning :o Given that I was also getting lost on tumblr and the like, but that's irrelevant (not really :p). I had the most inspiration while listening to "Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop" by Landon Pigg, not sure why though. Pandora Radio = love. Next chapter will be the normal PV again, but we're not quite yet to the good stuff DX Just setting up for events and what-not…Ok, I'm done rambling. Please review! Reviewers get virtual hugs! ^-^**_


	5. Chapter 3: Can you keep a secret

_**Author's Note: Oh hai, I didn't see you there :3**_

_**Did you enjoy the last chapter? I did. A little too much, I think. Expect a side story involving those two in the near future. The (Scout) first-person PV is back (yaaaaaaay)! I'm keeping this AN short: I hope you enjoy this chapter, pretty-please review!**_

After assisting Calpurnia with the washing of the dinner dishes, I wished Atticus and Aunt Alexandra a good night, though—

admittedly—the latter was with much less feeling. I lay in my bed, still fully dressed under the covers, for what seemed like forever.

I didn't want to check up on Dill and Jem just yet, as to avoid suspicion from adults, given they were still up and about. I counted

how many times I heard a door creak shut— two for Aunt Alexandra going in and out of the bathroom to put her hair up, one loud

one for Atticus leaving to take Cal home, another one for Atticus returning, and, the loudest of them all, being Atticus retiring to his

bedroom. As soon as it became silent throughout the Finch household, I began my hushed trek across the hall to, where I

presumed the two boys went Jem's room. I padded over to the door and froze when I heard voices. "…Someday…anytime soon…

please?" I strained to hear the faint adenoidal sound of Dill's voice. I pressed my ear to the hollow wood, and what I heard

resembled something being swept across the floor, something being shoved up against the wall, and the muted smacking of gum.

I chose that moment to turn the cold knob and push the door open as quietly as I could while still being fast. What I saw was

definitely not what I expected. Maybe I'd been reading too much Shakespeare, but I expected to see Dill kneeling by his bed

weeping over the girl of his dreams, lost to some untimely disease, while his most trusted advisor, Jem, patted his back and sung

him songs of heartbreak. Yeah, definitely too much Shakespeare. Instead, I saw my brother holding my best friend flush against

the wall nearest to the bed, his hands underneath his button-up and his lips on his neck. Dill was very red in the face and held

onto Jem's arms like he was a life raft. I think I may have stood there in that doorway for hours, gawking open-mouthed at the

two like a trout pulled up out of the water. Finally, Dill looked up at me with half-lidded eyes when the sharp noise of my hand

slapping against my mouth startled him. Within seconds, the sight of me registered in his mind. His eyes popped open and he

froze; it was as if he was hoping that if he didn't make any sudden movements, I wouldn't see him. Kind of like what they tell in

you school about dinosaurs and homeless people.

"J-j-j-JEM…!" Dill panted loudly, attempting to point out their uninvited visitor. Jem paid no mind to me and continued to ravish

Dill's skin with ample enthusiasm. My throat felt unbelievably tight, but I strained to cough loud enough to get Jem's attention.

Even though it sounded weaker than intended, it still managed to rouse Jem from the delicious feast that was Dill's décolletage.

His face snapped up to glare at me with a ferocity comparable to Bob Ewell's. Then, with the same moment of recognition as Dill's

earlier, his hands shot out from beneath Dill's shirt and he jerked away from his subject of affections. "Uhhh Scout, er what are

you…AH WE WEREN'T umm, well, why are…" Jem began to babble, his voice audibly cracking. Dill and Jem instantly realized the

compromising position they were in and sprung apart. I don't think I've ever seen such vibrant shades of crimson in my life other

than in their expressions. "Errrr, Scout. When did…when did you walk in?" Dill asked uneasily, wringing his hands. Jem buried his

face in his hands and fell back onto his bed with a muffled whimper. I felt obligated to speak up before either Dill's head exploded

from the sheer pressure of every ounce of blood in his body collecting in his face or Jem suffocated himself with his own hands. "I…

just came in. Um. Can we talk?" I nervously shuffled out of the doorway. Dill plopped down next to Jem and rested his hand on

Jem's knee, which seemed to calm Jem down visibly. "Scout, before you say anything, promise me…promise us," Dill squeezed

Jem's knee and exhaled shakily. "Promise us that what happened here, and what is said here, _stays_ here." I was taken aback by

Dill's mistrust at first, but as I soon came to understand, came with good intentions. It felt as if there were millions of words flying

around in my brain, and for once, I was absolutely unsure which ones to say. "Well, I'm guessing from what I just saw," I began

awkwardly, "You two are um…homosexual?" Jem shot up out of his sorry state on the bed, "No, I'm not homosexual!" he

protested. Dill gave him a wretched gaze, and before he could object, Jem added, "Saying I was, er, _homosexual_ would mean that

I like..uhhh boys. But I don't. I only like Dill." He giggled timorously. "You could say I'm _Dill_-sexual." Dill beamed at my brother with

the warmth of Maycomb's mid-August sun.

I inhaled sharply. The easy part was over. And I'm also guessing you haven't told anyone about…this?" I inquired. This is

where it became increasingly difficult. "Jesus Christ, Scout, of course not! If anyone found out…Christ Scout, I don't even wanna

think about it!" Jem answered with bated breath. I promptly told him to watch his blasphemous mouth. "You have to be more

careful from now on!" I barked. "Anyone could have walked in, be glad it was me and not Atticus, or, even worse, Aunt Alexandra!"

Jem gasped. "Oh God…Aunt Alexandra!" I reached over to smack Dill on the chest. "Lock your doors if you two are going to

continue like…this. And be quieter, it sounded like you were wrestling raccoons in here!" I continued. Dill lowered his head, hiding

the tell-tale signs of his embarrassment. "So you're not ashamed or anything?" I was, again, mildly offended by Dill's prejudgment.

Hadn't all these years of being bosom buddies shown him my mostly open-minded nature? "Dill…of course I'm not ashamed. Do

you really think I care whom you decide to be with? I mean, sure I _am_ surprised, but not ashamed! It's just not something you see

every day; two of the men closest to you in your life…engaging in acts of...intimacy. It's different. But it doesn't matter in the

slightest: you're still my best friend, and you're still my annoying older brother." The two nodded knowingly, and Dill rose to

embrace me. "Thanks, Scout, for being a friend." he murmured into my ear. I felt another pair of powerful arms wrap around me.

"Yeah, thanks sis." I chuckled and allowed myself to be pulled into their hug. "Treat my brother well, won't you Mr. Harris? Don't go

breaking his heart." We stood there, hidden in each other's arms for what seemed like the rest of the night. When we parted, I

had felt as if we made a silent pact of confidentiality with that hug. Though keeping secrets wasn't usually my forte, I did so

anyways. Because the happiness of my two greatest friends in the whole world meant much more to me than a minor character

flaw.

_**Author's Note: DEAR LAWWWDDDDD this chapter was even harder to write! And still, I don't even think I executed it perfectly. Sorry about that. :o Next chapter includes papergirl-Scout and the appearance of someone…perhaps Scout's love interest? HMMMM? Please review, and feel free to kill me for this chapter.**_


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